


A Little Death

by Strawberrywaltz



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: A literal Death Fic, A literal Death Fic about Dead Characters, AU - sort of, Afterlife, Death, Depression, Devon is an Optimist, Devon/One slow burn, Ghost Raza, Jace Corso is Insane, M/M, No actual death...sort of...wait..., No one dies twice?, Non-Graphic non/con elements, One Centric, One is Depressed, Spoilers for Season 2, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-10-09 08:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberrywaltz/pseuds/Strawberrywaltz
Summary: Death had been a surprise. Not dying. Death.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to write this...but it bugged me until I agreed. ^^ This is a very strange death fic....
> 
> Devon might be a little OOC...but then there wasn't a whole lot of him in the show generally so I think it's pretty safe to take artistic liberties with his character. 
> 
> Enjoy

A Little Death

Chapter One

The last face One had seen was his own. Smug. Cold. Calculatingly evil. Jace Corso had raised his gun and pulled the trigger again and again until everything had gone from erupting pain to blissfully black. It had been a quick death. Unexpected, but mercifully quicker than life would have been had One miraculously lived. 

Death had been a surprise. Not dying. Death. 

One knew he would have died even if Jace Corso hadn’t shown up. Assassination was just one of the many possible death’s One might have faced. One had been smart enough to figure that out. The amount of enemies he had in the universe compared to the small group of not-friends he lost was astounding. One had tried to tell Six. If One had been smarter he would have taken precautions. One would have run. 

His past, dead or alive was gone. Derrick Moss had died over forty days before. One had died in that hallway. His crew had betrayed him. Even if One had lived…

The person One had become aboard the Raza would have ended. Killed by circumstance. Killed by the need to survive. Once One left the Raza he would have been forced to change. Someone else would have risen from One’s ashes. A new life. Maybe even a new face. One knew he wouldn’t have lasted long alone in the universe. 

After the pain and the shock of death One had woken up trapped in his own personal hell. The Raza. Left alone. Like a ghost he could walk through walls. No room was off limits – unless he tried to leave the ship. The controls didn’t work. All the screens were blank and as lifeless as he seemed to be. The lights were on and the fish in the tank were all he had for company. The Raza hummed the way it tended to when it was in FTL. One didn’t know where he was going, or if the ghost Raza would ever stop. 

It didn’t take long for One to sink into a terrible and self-loathing depression. He went through the stages of grief. The first being denial. He thought, at first, that he was still alive. That everything that happened after the betrayal had been a dream. Denial lasted longer than One would like to admit. It wasn’t until he fell through a wall that he realized he was really and truly dead. 

Anger came next. It lasted for a long time. Every once in a while it would flare up again. He was pissed at Two for siding with Three. He was pissed at Three for successfully turning everyone against him. He was pissed at Four for not figuring things out and killing Six before everything went to hell. He was mad at Five for, okay, Five was the one person he wasn’t that mad at. Six though, Six was the focus of One’s anger. If One could, One would have haunted his ass until the guilt caused him to take his own life. 

Anger grew tiresome after a while. Guilt crept in slowly, but left quick. One mostly felt guilty about Five. He hoped she was okay. He was glad he hadn’t dragged her down with him. If he had managed to get her out of prison with him she would be dead too. There were some times he wished she had died with him, which made him feel guilty. One was lonely in his Raza hell. 

Bargaining came in the form of trying to ‘free himself’ from his after life prison. He searched every inch of the Raza for a way ‘out’ but came up empty. There was no way to go back. 

The depression was crushing. He had no way to return to his former life and, honestly, he didn’t want to. He had lost everything. Two and Three had turned against him. His family had betrayed him. There was nothing left in the living world for him. 

One accepted the fact that he was depressed. He accepted that he could not save himself. He had even accepted that there was no one in the universe who wanted to save him. He was stuck. He accepted that he was stuck and there was no getting out. He even accepted the fact that he was dead and his own stupidity had gotten him there.

For a long, long time One simply lay in his room and didn’t move. 

That is, until everything changed. 

A noise startled One out of his own dark thoughts. With a frown he sat up on his bed and stared at his door. Someone, or something, was in the hallway. He could hear the tell tale signs of boots on metal. A single pair of steel toe clad feet. 

At first One’s heart sored. He wasn’t alone anymore! He could have a conversation again. He could break up the darkness and interact with another human-ghost-thing. Fear quickly replaced that shinny flicker of hope. He caught his breath and stood near the closed door. 

For whatever reason One decided to take a chance to learn from his life-ending mistake. He needed to precede with caution. He needed to see who was on the Raza with him before he opened the door and came face to face with another monster. 

Lucky for One he knew the Raza better in death than he did when he was was alive. He took a page from Five’s book and pulled himself up into the vents. He was small enough to move within the confined space without making noise. He’d taught himself how to make as little noise in his little hell as possible. When he had first woken up on the Raza any noise he heard made him believe he was being rescued. The disappointment when he learned the sounds were his own echoes was torture. 

Silently One made his way from opening to opening and checked for any signs of a visitor. 

It couldn’t have been his own echoes this time. One frowned as he took a break in one of the bigger passages. He leaned against the cool metal and considered crawling back to his room and sinking back into his depression cocoon of blankets and empty staring.

He had been laying still. 

The footsteps had been real, hadn’t they? 

Feeling discouraged and a little crazy, One started to move only to hear the sound he had started to believe he imagined once again. Growing closer. Closer. 

He spied through the vent beside him and waited, heart pounding as a boot came into view. A second boot followed in step and legs, knees and finally – One’s breath caught. No. 

It couldn’t be. 

His look alike stopped just under his vent and looked around with narrowed eyes. One held his breath in irrational fear. He was dead, wasn’t he? That meant that this version of himself – potentially Jace Corso, was dead as well. Didn’t it? 

Being dead meant he couldn’t die again. 

Right? 

One, although dead, didn’t want to take the risk of confronting his murderer. 

Curiosity and fear caused One to watch as his shadow passed under him and continued down the halls of the Raza. 

Did Corso know he was dead? 

Did it matter? 

One cursed silently as he moved in the opposite direction Corso went. He had been under the solid impression that his hell couldn’t get any worse. He had been wrong. Painfully so. 

Anger rushed back quickly as One crawled out of the vents and dropped silently onto his bed back in his room. He paced as he battled not thinking at all and considering all of the horrible possibilities now that Corso was stuck in this place with him. 

At some point the two of them were going to meet again. Face to face. 

One’s knowledge of the Raza helped him stay a step ahead of Corso. Corso, as far as One knew, had no idea he wasn’t alone on the ghost ship. One watched him when he could do so carefully. One witnessed Corso’s growing frustration. The man didn’t seem like the type to talk to the air and he wasn’t. One had no idea how much Corso had figured out or what an encounter with the man would mean for himself. 

One was fast asleep when his luck ran out. Seven days after Corso showed up he found One in one of the vent spaces. He hadn’t shown much interest in the ventilation system before so One had considered the vents safe. He’d been wrong. 

A hand wrapped into the fabric of One’s shirt and pulled sharply. One fell into the metal hallway and gasped awake. He looked up and saw himself. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Corso asked with a crooked smile as he stared down at his newest find. “I could have sworn I killed you.” 

One tipped his chin up in defiance once the original shock had worn thin. “Hate to break it to you, Corso, but like me, you are very dead.” 

“Dead?” Corso repeated and laughed once loud and harsh. “Dead.” He hissed a second time. One watched the man’s brown eyes switch from mockery to rage from one heart beat to the next. “That bitch!” He shouted and glared down at One. “You! This is your fault.” 

One blinked. 

“It was your crew. They found me, they, she – ” Corso snapped his jaw shut so tight the click echoed throughout the metal hallway. “You’ll pay.” 

Corso grabbed ahold of One and dragged him down the hall. One struggled. He wasn’t about to go quietly. He opened his mouth to argue, to negotiate, but Three’s voice popped into his mind, ‘There’s no arguing with crazy. Keep your trap shut and wait for an opportunity to turn the tables.’ 

One inhaled sharply. It had sounded like Three, but the voice was literally only in his mind. 

Painful longing distracted One until he was shoved into one of the wooden chairs in the mess and Corso bound his arms to the armrests with strips of fabric. 

“I’m going to make you bleed.” Corso raged as he tightened the bindings. 

One stared, first at his immobilized arm and then up at Corso. “You can’t kill someone who is already dead.” One pointed out despite his best efforts to listen to Three’s ghostly advice. 

The look Corso offered froze One’s heart. 

“Perhaps you and I are dead.” Corso said chillingly. “But we can still see how much damage I can afflict upon you while we’re trapped here.” 

__

Corso started with his knife. The blade trailed over One’s exposed skin. Corso made him bleed, just like he promised. 

One screamed, but he did not beg. There didn’t seem to be much point in begging. Corso was out for revenge. He talked. One pieced together a bit of what happened in Jace Corso’s last hours of life. 

“Not only did I have your company coming after me.” Corso drove the knife through One’s left hand. One howled, tears of pain burned behind his eyes. “I had your goddamn crew. My crew!” Slowly Corso pulled the bloodstained blade from One’s mangled hand. One groaned and watched with a certain amount of detachment. He felt the pain. He felt weak and sick. “You stole my life. My face.” 

“You can have it!” One shouted back. “Your face has done nothing for me but cause me pain.” 

“You deserve only pain.” Corso leaned away wiping the blood off the blade. “Because of you we are stuck here. This is your hell. Welcome to it.” 

One stared up at Corso as he turned and stalked from the mess hall and back into the halls of the Raza. 

Being alone never felt so safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is a lead up to a vague, fade to black, non-con in this chapter...just be warned. 
> 
> Please watch your triggers. Thanks!

Chapter Two

Hell. That’s where One had ended up. 

Maybe Three had been right. Maybe no good deed went unpunished in the unforgiving universe they woke up in. Maybe One had wasted his life trying to make up for things he had no control over. Maybe he should have embraced what he could have become, instead of trying to be someone he clearly was not. Maybe One was no better than the worst criminal he’d ever encountered. Maybe in the end it didn’t matter if a person chose to be good, evil or somewhere in between. 

If One had been smart he would have run when he had the chance. He would have gone somewhere else, chosen a new face and a new name and forgotten about his time on the Raza or his lost history as Derrick Moss. 

It was too late. Death was absolute. There was no indecision. No going back. 

One tried to slip out of his bindings the same way he’d learned to slip through walls once Corso had left him alone in the mess hall. His body was covered in bloody cuts and darkening bruises. His heart pounded hard against the walls of his chest when his wrists remained securely fastened. He couldn’t slip free. 

Panicked, One pulled and tugged until the first layer of flesh was stripped from his wrists. After an unknown amount of time One’s exhaustion slowed his frantic movements until he slumped in the chair and was forced to focus on his erratic breathing. He couldn’t get free. He needed to get free.

One shuddered at the thought of what Corso might do to him. 

Back when One believed he was the infamous Jace Corso, he’d done a lot of research on the man. He’d learned that Corso was the kind of guy who would do anything for money. Corso wasn’t bound by humanity, rules or limits. People feared him. People who crossed him ended up dead. Not just the people who crossed him, though. Their families. Their friends. Their dogs. All were tortured to death over extended periods of time. 

One forced himself to relax as he gazed down at his bound arms. He wasn’t getting out of this predicament. One closed his eyes in defeat. Even if he did get free, what would be the point? He would save himself an hour or two of torture until Corso hunted him down and recaptured him. What would that fix? Nothing. One running would only anger Corso. It would only bring more pain. No matter which way One played his hand it all ended the same way. Losing. 

Corso returned before One could bring himself to make a second attempt to free himself. 

“Are you ready for round two?” Corso asked with a sinister grin. He pulled out his knife and reflected a glint of sharp light into One’s eyes before using the tip of the blade to split the skin across One’s forearm. 

Corso was an excellent torturer. His knife never slipped deeper than he intended it to. He was precise. Calculated. Cruel. He was everything One knew Corso could be and more. Corso knew exactly how much he could hurt someone without ‘killing’ them. Torture and inflicting pain was Jace Corso’s deranged form of an artistic expression. He was a master at it. 

Pain replaced the loneliness that had afflicted One before Corso had arrived and shattered the calm of death. 

The sessions, much to One’s relief, were not continuous. Eventually Corso would get bored and leave One to suffer alone, but there was always the silent promise he would come back. Usually he would return with something new and hideous to try on One. Corso did everything without permanently disfiguring One. Corso threatened, of course, but he never actually cut off a finger or gouged out an eye. Not because he couldn’t, One knew Corso could. 

One didn’t know why Corso didn’t simply push the line he was balancing on. Corso abused One’s body as well as his mind. The pain was great, but Corso left One with that small thread of hope. He played with it. He plucked it and frayed it, but he never snapped it. Maybe that was why Corso never played with One’s face. Perhaps he was biding his time. 

Sometimes Corso didn’t bother causing physical damage. Corso would circle One and berate him. He’d call One all sorts of names and explain why One was weak and unworthy of the life he had thrown away. 

Most of what Corso said was cheap shots and if One was in a better headspace he would have been able to see through the transparency of it all, but One was not in a good headspace. He was miserable. Alone. Trapped in a constant state of agony. There was nothing but pain lighting up One’s horizons, no glimpse of a better future. 

Every word Corso said was another nail driven into One’s heart. Swift and cold. One wholeheartedly believed what his counterpart said. He was weak. He hadn’t deserved to live. He should have died a long time ago. His crew hated him. They never trusted him. He was useless. He was a fraud. 

“I could have killed your entire crew.” Corso taunted during a particularly gruesome session. “I had your captain’s head in my sights, but I didn’t kill her. Not because I couldn’t. Not because I’m weak. I didn’t kill her because she became my plan.” Corso nodded, as if he had come to terms with something unpleasant. 

It captured One’s attention and he silently listened as Corso continued. “I knew my time was up. I was aware. Far more than you were when I killed you. I died the way I wanted to die. You died like a coward. If I had given you the chance I bet you would have begged me to spare your pathetic life. I bet you would have cried.” 

One stared at the wall, but he couldn’t help but let Corso’s words sink in. He wondered if he would have begged. Logically One knew what he would have done. He would have stalled for as much time as possible and hoped his crew would eventually show up and save him. 

One knew the truth now. His crew would never have come for him. He was nothing to them.

However, if that were true, why did his crew go after Corso? Could it mean that they were out for revenge? Revenge over his murder? Did it mean that they did care? 

“Two killed you.” One smirked slow and unsure. “She killed you for me.” 

“She didn’t care about you.” Corso grinned as he leaned closer to One. The only part of One’s body Corso hadn’t torn into was his face. Something about poetic justice, or maybe it was closer to Corso not wanting to distort his own living reflection. Or it was the thing about hope, but One couldn’t be sure. Corso was impossible to read. Insanity was not an open book, it was a movie where each frame was different and the plot made about as much sense as a basket full of decaying flowers. 

One blinked back at Corso as he continued fray his last thread of hope. “Portia didn’t care who wanted you dead. She didn’t even care about who had pulled the trigger. All they wanted was to make sure I didn’t go after the rest of the Raza crew. They were watching their own backs, not yours. They never considered you part of their crew.” 

One could believe that. He had no reason not to. Two was a calculated leader. Smart. Cold. She had apparently gotten her crew out of a highly secure space prison. They were free. One could take comfort in the fact that they had managed to escape. That Three…

Three probably didn’t miss a step knowing that One had been killed. He was probably overjoyed with the knowledge. One’s heart hurt thinking about it. Those last hours they spent together in betrayal and fear. They had turned against one another. One regretted it. 

The knife’s sting brought One back to the present. Corso laughed. 

“I could have given her that information, but she didn’t want it.” Corso moved in closer, his blood stained hand trailing across One’s pale cheek. “She didn’t care. You understand that, don’t you? None of them did.” 

One let the words sink in, but smirked back at his own dark reflection. “Do you think anyone cared that you died?” He asked, suddenly feeling stronger. Bold. “You were alone in the universe. You betrayed everyone and anyone you could for a profit. Do you think your death meant anything to anybody? The universe sighed a breath of relief when Two killed you.” 

Corso stared at One for a moment, murder in his eyes. Rage. Cold and decisive he tipped One’s chair over and the wood crumbled under the impact. One gasped as the breath left his lungs and Corso was on top of his abused, bleeding body. 

“Death brought us together for a reason.” Corso said as he pinned One’s flailing body down. “I was always supposed to make you suffer.” 

“You’re deranged.” One snarled back, the start of his next sentence was quickly cut off when Corso’s lips covered his. Shock filled One’s system as his struggles renewed. 

“Perhaps I am deranged.” Corso whispered as he pulled away and One sucked in air desperately. “But you will always be at my mercy.”   
__

Time blurred for One. His mind slid somewhere else while Corso invaded his body in the most cruel and intimate ways. 

When he was finished Corso tied One to another chair and left him alone again. One couldn’t focus. He was in shock. His body hurt. His mind rebelled against what had happened to him and the idea that it would continue to happen to him. 

This was his fate. 

This was One’s hell. 

Maybe he deserved it. Derrick Moss had pissed off countless people. One had killed countless people. One could even accept that he deserved some form of punishment for his questionable choices, but no one deserved this. 

He breathed through the pain and let the darkness of depression back in. 

Could he die in this place? Could he slip away from this place and further from Jace Corso? Perhaps he needed to try. In all of Corso’s efforts the man had been careful not to take his torture too far. 

Wounds healed faster on the ghost Raza. The initial knife-wound through One’s left hand had already begun to stitch itself back together. The blood loss made One feel weak and sick, but he hadn’t died, which told One that his body was remaking the blood he lost faster than it did when he was alive. 

Corso could torture One indefinitely and there was nothing and no one who could stop it. One certainly couldn’t stop it. 

It was hopeless.

Chin to chest One waited for his tormentor to return and continue. 

__

Corso had just driven his knife into One’s right shoulder when everything changed. 

“Back away.” A voice boomed throughout the room. One looked up as Corso turned, Corso’s body blocked One’s view of the newcomer. A friend? A new foe? One wasn’t sure he wanted to know. His chin dropped back down to his chest in exhaustion. He was grateful for the reprieve if nothing else. 

“You have no idea what you’ve walked into.” Corso hissed lowly. 

“I said, back away.” The voice said again, equally as low. 

“Put down the gun.” Corso growled. 

“The way I see it,” The voice continued, unafraid despite the very dangerous situation he stumbled across. “I have a gun and you have a knife.” 

“You can’t kill me.” Corso’s voice got lower. 

“Are you sure about that?” The voice asked, lighter, more confident and smug. 

Slowly they circled each other. Corso holding his blood stained knife and the new man holding a gun. One was both relieved and disappointed to see that the voice belonged to a stranger. He was glad it wasn’t Three. Three. Three was still alive. Two was still alive. Four, Five and Six. 

“This isn’t over.” Corso snarled as he stepped backwards through the doorway and out into the hall. 

“I didn’t think it was.” The stranger agreed as Corso walked away. 

“You should have shot him.” One whispered when the man stepped forward and sealed the door to the room. 

“Maybe.” The stranger agreed and turned back to face One, his gun leveled against One’s forehead. “But I need some answers and you seemed like the safest choice.” 

Of course One’s luck wouldn’t turn around. This was his hell, after all. 

“Well, you aren’t stupid.” One whispered and dropped his chin again. 

“Where did the crew of this ship go?” The stranger asked. 

“That’s a tricky question.” One smirked and raised his head again. “I suppose they are still alive.”

“Well, that was about as vague as you could get.” The gun lowered slightly as the stranger examined One. One examined him back. Brown hair, blue eyes. He didn’t look hardened, but his eyes did look a little haunted. The man took in a shaky breath, betraying the tough presence he had attempted to show. “Why was he hurting you?” 

One took a moment to consider the question. “He thinks I got him killed.” He answered honestly. Not honest enough. “Him killing me got him killed.” One corrected himself. “It’s complicated.” One sighed. 

The stranger’s reaction was wide eyed shock. “What?” 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” One asked as kindly as possible. 

“I was,” The stranger’s eyes widened again. “I – he – that man! He stabbed me!” 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this,” One sighed. “But you died. Welcome to hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to those who are giving this story a try.
> 
> Ah, and the 'stranger' who was mentioned at the end is Devon...in case you missed it! One wouldn't know that...since they've never met...
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still love this story...I forgot how much ^^

The stranger lowered his gun and slowly sat down in one of the other chairs surrounding the table. One watched as the man took in the space around them slowly. “I don’t understand.” He spoke after a long stretch of silence. 

“You died.” One repeated casually. 

“Not that.” The stranger corrected. His gun was no longer trained on One, which One appreciated, but it was still firmly gripped in his hand. “I mean, there are two of you. That doesn’t make sense. Does that mean that there is another one of me walking around on this ship? A version who wants to torture me?” 

“I doubt it.” One gasped when he tried to shrug his shoulder, he’d nearly forgotten about his newly acquired knife wound. Pain was becoming the only constant in One’s life. Or, well, the only constant in One’s death. Death was confusing. 

“You doubt it?” The stranger echoed with narrowed his eyes and frowned. He hesitated a moment before he stood and started to check on One’s wounds. First he studied the healing gash in his hand and then the hole in his shoulder. “You’re bleeding out, we need to get you to the infirmary.” 

“I’ve been bleeding out for days.” One sighed. Disappointed that he hadn’t already died. Well, died for real. He closed his eyes briefly, but watched as the stranger started undoing the knots holding his arms to the chair. “Who are you?” One asked weakly.

The stranger fixed One with a strange look before he answered. “Devon. You?” 

“One.” He answered half-heartedly. Devon’s fingers stopped twisting at the knots and their eyes met. 

“One – as in, One?” Devon’s blue eyes widened again. “One – that means that guy, the one who hurt you, he was? Crap! That was Jace Corso!” 

“Yes.” One blinked away his surprise. “How did you know that?” 

“I – uh, well.” Devon glanced back towards the sealed door and then refocused on the knots with a new reason to hurry. “I’m – I, uh. This is weird.” 

“No kidding.” One raised an eyebrow and winced as Devon accidently brushed against one of his many wounds. “We’re dead. There’s no reason to make this any more awkward.” 

Devon smiled a sheepish smile and nodded in agreement. “I escaped prison with your crew.” Devon explained. “I was with them for a while after. We – uh, me and Nyx, the other person who escaped with them, stayed for a bit but, well, things happened.” 

“Things?” One asked instead of the millions of questions he wanted to ask. 

“Things.” Devon looked away. “I probably would have been safer if I had stayed in prison.” He smiled sadly. 

One chuckled darkly and leaned his head back. “You and me both.” 

“They miss you.” Devon said after he got One’s hands free and started working on his legs. “They didn’t want to show that kind of weakness in front of us, but I heard them talking about you a few times. They regretted whatever happened. They did care that you died.” 

One’s heart hardened so quickly it hurt. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Devon’s eyes snapped upward and met One’s. “You have a point.” Devon accepted and finished off the last knot. “Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary.” 

“I don’t really see the point of going anywhere.” One said as Devon hoisted him up onto shaky legs. “I haven’t died, or, whatever happens to you here, yet. We should just stay here. Maybe he won’t comeback.” 

“I’m a doctor.” Devon told him with a small, lopsided smile. “I’m stuck here with you. I might as well help. I don’t really like watching people bleed if I can stop it.” 

Devon reached over and picked up the gun again as he supported One’s near dead weight. “We’ll probably need this. Corso is still around here somewhere.” 

“Where did you get it? The gun.” One asked as they approached the sealed door. There was always the chance that Corso was out there waiting. “I didn’t find any weapons when I got here. Not that I needed any until Corso showed up.” 

“I found it in one of the rooms.” Devon said. “Must have been Corso’s. Maybe it came here with him.” 

“Could be.” One agreed, took a breath and watched as the doors slid open. Devon raised his hand, his finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire. “Where’d a doctor learn how to hold a gun like that?” 

Devon smirked, this smirk was a little bolder. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased with surprising playfulness as they started to stumble quietly towards the infirmary. They didn’t speak again until they were safely sealed inside. 

“I honestly don’t know how much this will help.” Devon sighed as he studied the closed door. 

“Corso doesn’t know how to walk through walls yet.” One smirked. “I don’t even know if he knows to try.” 

“If you could walk through walls, why didn’t you free yourself?” Devon asked with a raised eyebrow as he helped One lay out on one of the exam tables. 

One felt the cool darkness he’d become close friends with brush against his soul. His smile slipped away as the depression washed over him in a wave of transparent hopelessness. “If I had escaped it would have only been a matter of time before he would have found me and dragged me back there and hurt me more.” 

“More than he already did?” Devon raised a mocking eyebrow again as he examined the hole in One’s shoulder. 

“Maybe I deserve being here.” One whispered darkly. 

Devon shook his head. “No one deserves this. Not even Corso. We’re here, but I don’t think we’re supposed to stay here.” 

One stared at Devon curiously. “You’re taking being dead fairly well.” 

Devon grinned. “Well, I expected to die sooner rather than later. At least the way it happened was somewhat quick.” 

“Yeah, at least.” One closed his eyes. Death may have been quick for One, but being dead had sucked painfully, nice and slow. One wondered if Devon had died alone like he had. 

“Okay. You seem, um, depressed.” Devon pointed out. “Kind of makes sense, you were tortured.” Devon hesitated as he pulled out some medical tools and looked at One cautiously. “How long did he, uh, hurt you?” 

“Don’t know.” One answered numbly. “I’ve been here a while. He showed up later. I got caught. I’m stuck. We’re stuck. It’s only a matter of time before he learns how to walk through walls and he comes for us. We’ll be screwed then.” 

“So we’ll fight.” Devon nodded and settled near One’s shoulder and examined the wound again. “I’ll patch you up. We have a gun. We can work together. We can survive until we can find away off of the Raza.” 

One narrowed his eyes and watched as Devon started to stitch his shoulder wound closed. The pain barely registered compared to the other things One had endured. “You really think we can get off the ship?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Devon shrugged. “This can’t be it.”

“It can.” One sighed. 

“No, think about it.” Devon insisted. “If everyone that considered the Raza it’s home ended up here, or if everyone who died in general ended up here, there would be more people here than the three of us. There would be, well, who all has died on this ship?” 

One thought of Wexler and his crew and shuddered. His experience in this hell would have been far worse if they had all been trapped here with him. It made sense that they would have been trapped on the ghost Raza as well. They had all died here. 

One hadn’t. He had died alone in a hotel room. 

“Did you die on the Raza?” One asked abruptly. “Did,” He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to know the answer or not. Devon seemed like a nice enough kind of guy. One could see his crew harming him. “Did one of the crew stab you?” 

Devon looked up from his handy work and shook his head. “No, I had left them on a stop over. A group of people looking for the Raza approached me. I didn’t give them the answer they wanted, so they killed me.” 

“You were loyal.” One whispered. 

“I guess.” Devon shrugged. “I didn’t have much honor, really. I was a drug addict and a criminal. I had a chance to be a great doctor but I let the stress get to me. I failed, but, I can accept that the last thing I did in life was help people. Maybe that redeemed me, or something.” 

“Death was your way out.” One summed it up. 

“I think I always planned to die.” Devon nodded. “I didn’t have a whole lot to live for. I didn’t want to be chained to my addiction anymore and I needed to find a way to make up for the mistakes I made. The people I killed.” 

“I get that.” One nodded. “I didn’t set out to die.” 

“You were killed.” Devon agreed. “You didn’t deserve it.” 

“Maybe I did.” One argued. “Maybe it was my way out, too.” 

Devon sighed and smeared a cream over the inflamed wound. “This should hold off the infection.” 

“I’m dead.” One pointed out. 

“This wound still looks a little too pink for my liking.” Devon raised an eyebrow. 

“Maybe dying a second time gets you off the ship.” One suggested. 

Devon narrowed his eyes in silent thought. “Tell me about your experience here. You’ve been here longer. Obviously. Have you noticed any changes? Anything that happens that felt unusual. A pull, a bright light you might want to head towards?” 

One raised an eyebrow but shrugged his good shoulder. “No, nothing like that. Nothing obvious.” 

“Okay.” Devon picked up One’s hand gently and examined the healing wound. “We’ll figure it out. Together.” 

“Your optimism can’t save us, you do realize that, right?”

Devon smiled back at One, so blinding it almost hurt One to look. “My optimism and I can try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops...skipped a chapter....sorry about the confusion. It should all be in order now. I'm posting the rest of this story today...I realized a few minutes ago that I hadn't updated any of my Dark Matter stories since the cancelation of the show. I am sad that the show is over...
> 
> Alas, the characters (even the dead ones) will live on through fanfiction if nothing else.

“You’re healing pretty good.” Devon mentioned after along drawn out silence between them. One blinked his eyes in Devon’s direction and glanced down at his hand. The wound was nearly a scar. “No offense, but that isn’t normal.” Devon added after a moment. 

“It’s this place.” One sighed and closed his eyes again. He was still set on being depressed. “It’s not normal.” 

“Well if it were normal here, we might as well be alive.” Devon joked with a bright, lopsided smile. One had to stop and stare. His new companion didn’t seem to understand what was happening, or if he did, he didn’t care enough to let it really hit him. They were dead. They both were being hunted by Jace Corso, a psychopath who wanted nothing more then to torture or kill them, if killing them was even possible. There were more questions in this place than answers and this guy, Devon, was taking it all in stride. 

“You are very strange.” One commented and moved to stand. 

Devon didn’t seem to take offense, which was unusual for One to see. Two would have glared him to death, Five would have pouted, Three would have punched him in the face, Four would have threatened him with something sharp and Six would have, well, betrayed One again. Devon simply smiled. 

One didn’t know what to do with a smile. 

“You aren’t very trusting, are you?” Devon’s smile faded slightly. 

“You met my crew.” One pointed out sadly and paced away from the exam table he had been laid up on. He glanced up at the vent and wondered if it were safe to hide in the system like he had before. He doubted it would be ideal, since Corso was aware he once found refuge inside there. 

“I did.” Devon agreed and his smile disappeared completely. “They were, um, much like you. Untrusting. Still, they did let me tag along. For a little while.” 

“Right.” One nodded. “The last time I saw them they were trying to kill me. The people I lived with, fought with and loved betrayed me. Corso might have murdered me in cold blood, but they were the ones who obliterated my trust.” 

“You’ve been alone for a long time.” Devon pointed out. “Maybe you just need to be reminded that people aren’t all bad. I don’t know all the details of what happened to you and your crew, but, they managed to forgive Six.” 

“What?” One turned sharply and aimed a deadly glare in Devon’s direction. “What did you say? They forgave Six? Six, the same guy who turned on all of us, on me? Six. Six?” 

Devon had the decency to look shocked. Or maybe it was closer to afraid. One supposed it was fair, it was the most and the loudest One had ever spoken. Devon managed to swallow and regain some of his upbeat composure before he answered. “Yeah. They did.” 

“How?” One demanded. “He threw them in prison! He betrayed them! Me! He – how could they forgive him and nearly execute me for the exact same thing! And I didn’t even do anything wrong!” 

As One ranted and paced Devon wisely backed away and stayed quiet as he watched. One was livid. He couldn’t believe that after everything, the infamous crew of the Raza, his crew, the people he thought he knew, would forgive the man who destroyed everything. Six. That bastard. Six had the chance to help One. One had all but begged for help and Six accused him of being paranoid. Paranoid!

“If I could I would kill that bastard.” One seethed and paced back and forth. 

“Um.” Devon held up a finger. “I think, I mean, I don’t think that they forgave him easily. He was down for the count a lot of the time.” 

“Huh?” One narrowed his eyes. “He was injured?” One refused to feel concerned for the big man. He hated Six with his entire being, but still, a part of him didn’t like the idea that Six had been hurt. It was hard to turn off his feelings. The whole situation was frustrating to no end.

“Shot.” Devon nodded. “They put him on ice until we could get supplies. I performed surgery on him myself. He was lucky, he lost a lot of blood. It took him a while to recover. It didn’t help that he was trying to prove himself to the crew. He had to work to gain their trust and even then I don’t think they will ever fully trust him again.” 

“Good.” One spat and folded his arms over his chest in a very Two inspired stance. “I hope they space him.” 

“Um, do you?” Devon raised an eyebrow. “I mean, if he dies, there’s a good chance he’ll end up here. With us.” 

One glared at Devon, but the anger seeped out of him like the air from his lungs as he sighed. He deflated and sat back down on the exam table. “Alright. I see your point.” 

“Sorry.” Devon looked genuinely regretful that he had accidently shoved One back under his umbrella of depressed darkness. “Look. Maybe life doesn’t have to,” Devon stopped, coughed and corrected himself. “I mean, maybe death doesn’t have to be so, uh, sad. Maybe we can make it bearable. Together.” 

One sighed again. “You don’t even know me.” 

“Maybe not.” Devon grinned. “But we have a while to get to know one another. I mean, it’s not like we’re going anywhere, am I right?” 

One stared back at Devon, but he didn’t respond. A part of One admired Devon’s drive and his willingness to make the best out of a crap situation. The rest of One found Devon to be annoying and wished to be left alone in his wallowing. 

Although, One closed his eyes, Devon had saved him. Devon had died and Devon had found a gun hidden away in one of the rooms. Devon had found One and stopped Corso, even if it was only for a little while. It was Devon who was driven and willing to band together and survive this place. 

Perhaps One owed him. 

“Okay.” One nodded. “What did you have in mind?” 

Devon’s smile was brilliant. “Glad to have you onboard. Okay, so, I wouldn’t call it a plan, but for now we just need to stay away from Corso.”

“Solid idea.” One tried not to sound as distraught as he felt. Why hope if the only idea’s from the most optimistic man in the dead universe were painfully obvious? Supportive, One breathed, he needed to be supportive. “Perhaps I can teach you how to walk through walls.” 

“That’s a good idea!” Devon grinned and stepped a bit closer to One. “How do you do it?” 

One frowned and considered the question. “It’s not easily explainable.” He winced. “I can tell you how not to phase through objects, though.” One closed his eyes, trying to block out a rush of memorizes involving Corso’s torture. “Don’t panic.” 

“No panicking, got it.” Devon eyed One curiously, but thankfully didn’t comment. “Any other advice? How did you do it the first time?” 

“Well,” One thought back to the moment. “Honestly I hadn’t tried to walk through anything. It happened. I was certain I was still alive. I thought maybe the ship was malfunctioning and that the rest of the crew had escaped on the Marauder.”

“Why did you think they left you behind?” Devon asked, but quickly looked like he regretted asking the question. “Sorry, I shouldn’t – I mean, I get why you didn’t think – ”

“No, it’s fine.” One waved him off. “I thought that we’d been attacked and maybe I had been knocked unconscious. I honestly wasn’t sure. I came up with all sorts of ideas. I thought maybe when we were all knocked out whoever had betrayed us simply left me behind because I wasn’t worth the trouble or they didn’t need me.” One shook his head. “The possibilities were endless, but at that point I was convinced I had dreamed up Six’s betrayal and my death.” 

“Right, so it must have been a shock to fall through a solid object.” Devon said. 

“Yes.” One nodded. “I was tired. You have to rest in this place. I was so focused on getting the systems back on line that I didn’t really want to take the time to sleep. I tripped and the wall didn’t stop my fall. I fell through. I landed on the other side and, well, freaked out. It all hit me after that.” 

“That you were dead.” Devon breathed. 

“Yeah.” One agreed. “I think out of the three of us, you’ve taken the news of being dead the best.” 

“As I said, life wasn’t exactly going as planned.” Devon shrugged. “I had no future, One.” 

“You could have turned it around.” One raised an eyebrow. “You seem to have the personality for it.” 

“Oh this?” Devon grinned. “This is my version of freaking out. It’s my thing. If things are going to shit I’m the optimist. If things are going smoothly I’m as dark as you seem to be.” 

“You, what?” One blinked. 

“My father liked to say I like to balance things out.” Devon smiled. “Anyway, we need to focus.” 

“Right.” One nodded in vague agreement. “So, perhaps since you’ve accepted that you are dead you’ll be able to phase through things quicker than I did.” 

“You were still in denial at that point though.” Devon pointed out. “So, really, it was more that you were too tired to think that the wall was solid, maybe. Maybe, since we still think in the terms of our past life that our minds can’t accept that things work differently here. Like how fast your wounds are healing.”

“Or pain.” One mumbled. Maybe the pain he felt was simply a memory of being alive. Maybe it was all in his mind. Maybe he had caused himself to accept that he should be in pain. 

One looked at the wound in his hand and pressed a finger against the still tender injury. It hurt. The pressure still felt sharp. Devon’s hand wrapped around his own, drawing One’s attention back to his companion’s face. 

“Let’s not test that right now, okay?” Devon suggested kindly. One frowned, but nodded. 

“Right.” One sighed and gently slipped his hand from Devon’s light grasp. It was odd, being touched so gently. Before Corso, before he had died, even Two hadn’t been overly gentle. She resisted any signs of affection. Three hadn’t been much better. The closest ‘kind’ touches One received from him was slaps on the back. 

“So, accepting that I can phase through walls is what we’re going with as of now.” Devon summed up. 

“I guess.” One agreed and refolded his arms against his chest as Devon stepped up to one of the infirmary walls. One watched the man as he hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it flat against the wall. “Still feel solid?” 

“Yeah.” Devon nodded. “Still solid.” He frowned in concentration and One couldn’t help but think that he liked Devon’s smile more. “Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with thinking it’s possible.” With another frown Devon dropped his hand back down to his side and looked back at One. “Did you walk through walls after that?” 

“Yes.” One nodded. “Not at first. I was in shock.” One sighed. “I tried to ignore it, at first. I refocused on the ship’s systems, but it was obvious nothing was going to work for me. I don’t know what got me to walk through the walls again. It’s kind of a blur. I accepted that I was dead and this was my version of hell.” 

“Hell?” Devon interrupted. 

“What else could this be?” One asked. “I was alone for a long time. Have you ever been completely alone?” 

Devon looked lost in thought for a few minutes before he spoke. “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you. In prison I was sent to solitary a few times. Mostly for being too close to someone else’s fight. I kept my head down, but I’m not really a quiet kind of guy. Everyone likes their space, of course, but I needed people to make myself useful. They’d get injured and the prison let me patch them back together. It gave me purpose. I’ve never really been alone and the short time I was nearly drove me crazy. I can’t imagine how you survived.” 

“I didn’t.” One admitted. “I walked the halls, didn’t bother activating doors. I was broken. I eventually stopped looking for a way off the ship. I looked everywhere. The vents, the rooms, the bridge – nothing changed. Eventually I just laid down and didn’t bother getting up again until I heard someone in the halls. Corso. I hid from him, but I needed to sleep. He found me and, well, you know the rest.” 

“Yeah.” Devon nodded. “I guess I do. How long has he been torturing you for?” 

“A while.” One repeated the same information he’d offered before. 

“One. What did he do to you?” Devon asked with a little more force and a lot of concern. 

“Anything he wanted to.” One answered quick and simple. “It doesn’t matter now.” 

Devon didn’t look completely convinced, but to One’s relief he didn’t push the subject. 

“Okay.” Devon nodded. “It doesn’t look like I’m going to be walking through walls any time soon.” 

“Probably not.” One agreed. “Maybe it has to do with time. You haven’t been here long enough to be able to phase through things.” One didn’t point out that Corso would likely figure out how to walk through walls before Devon, which left Devon vulnerable. 

Still, One was willing to admit that having another person at his side evened the odds ever so slightly. They could fight Corso. They could try. 

“So we need to stay one step ahead of Corso.” Devon nodded. “Got any idea of how to do that?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding chapters 4-6 today...so don't get confused!

“I’ve got a new theory.” Devon announced. They were no longer in the infirmary. One’s wounds had healed enough that they could move about the Raza freely. It was a twisted game of hide and seek. They knew Corso was still around. They knew the psychopath was likely coming up with new and brutal ideas to torture them if he managed to capture them again. 

“Dare I ask?” One slipped carefully through the wall and into the hallway to check to see if the coast was clear. Corso had taken refuge on the bridge of the Raza. As far as One could tell the man was dead set on rebooting the system. One chuckled to himself. ‘Dead set’ was a little on the nose, but darkly humorous none-the-less. 

One phased back into the room and Devon raised an eyebrow in greeting. “Did I just hear you laugh?” 

“Nope.” One lied and motioned Devon to be quiet as they walked out of the room using the door. In the hallway they were silent. Devon wasn’t able to walk as quietly as One, but he was a quick learner and with every step tried to mimic One as best he could. 

The two walked in silence until they arrived their next designated safe area, the supply vault. One punched in the code and the door slid open. He motioned Devon inside and closed the vault, sealing Devon inside before he walked through the vault door to join the man. 

“What’s your new theory?” One asked, mostly to placate the other man. He had grown to enjoy Devon’s company, although he could admit that his loneness was to blame. 

“Maybe the Raza is heading somewhere.” Devon suggested. “Maybe that’s why we can’t access the system. Maybe it’s taking us to our, uh, afterlife?” 

“So, we just have to survive until we arrive?” One asked. 

“Yeah.” Devon leaned casually against one of the crates. One had already checked them. They were empty. Nothing was easy in death. 

“So, in your theory, what happens to us if we don’t survive that long?” One looked at Devon and the crates he was leaning against. He had a brief flash of the time he and the Raza men had been trapped in the vault together. He remembered sitting on that crate next to Three. He remembered thinking that Two was dead and that they needed to protect Five. 

It hurt to think about how helpless he had felt. The crew kept reminding him that he didn’t belong. He hadn’t. Maybe he should have listened to them. Maybe if he had he wouldn’t have ended up here. 

Of course, if he hadn’t died he would have likely never met Devon. One looked at the man his thoughts were drawn to. 

“What?” Devon asked and glanced behind him worriedly. “What is it?” 

“Nothing.” One shook his head. “Old memories.” He gave the half-truth. “Do you want to try and phase through the wall again?” 

Devon actually frowned at the suggestion. Despite valiant effort, Devon had remained completely solid. “Sure.” The enthusiasm wasn’t nearly as bright as it had been the first few days of trial and error. The last attempt had left Devon nearly concussed. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t suggest you run at the wall again.” One grinned. His smile ignited Devon’s own, renewing the optimism One had come to both appreciate and rely on. 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“As am I.” Another voice interrupted the moment. Chills spread down One’s spine as he spied a look of fear cross Devon’s face before he turned to face his reflection. Corso had found them at last. 

Devon pulled out the gun and fired the first shot, which went straight through Corso, confirming what One had already guessed. Corso had figured out how to phase through objects. 

Including projectiles. 

Shit. 

“You two didn’t think I had forgotten my promise, did you?” Corso smirked smugly as he twirled his knife in his hand. One, who stood closer to the crazed man, took a step back. There was no escape now that Corso knew how to walk through solid objects. They couldn’t kill him using the gun. They couldn’t stop him. 

Corso threw the knife directly at One’s chest. One didn’t think as he held his breath and the knife sored straight through his body. He’d phased just in time. The grunt of pain took One by surprise. He turned and saw Devon’s hand close around the hilt of the knife, the blade was buried deep in his side. 

“No.” One whispered and Devon slid to his knees. 

An arm wrapped around One’s throat and pulled him backwards. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” His own voice whispered into his ears as they struggled together. One pushed backwards, sending them both through the Vault wall and into another room. With Devon out of sight One felt panicked. He needed to get Corso away from his injured – friend? Comrade. Devon. His Devon. 

Corso pulled back as they faced one another in the larger room. “You’ve thought about me every second we were apart.” Corso taunted.

Actually, that wasn’t true. One glanced around the room carefully as they circled one another. There was nothing close by that One could use to defend himself. Corso had the advantage and Devon. One hesitated. One had to get Corso further away from Devon. 

“I’ve had other things on my mind.” One smirked and took off in the opposite direction of the vault. To his surprise, and glee, Corso bolted after him, leaving Devon in the relative safety of the vault. 

Granted Devon was bleeding and trapped, but One hoped the backward universe they were currently in would keep Devon ‘alive’ long enough for One to make his way back to the vault. 

First One needed to think of a way to subdue Corso. 

A body crashed into One and knocked him straight off his feet. They hit hard, Corso on top of One with his hands wrapped in One’s white tee-shirt. “Don’t you understand it yet?” Corso asked with droplets of spit flung into One’s face. “You’re mine! You can’t escape me!” 

“I can try.” One shouted back and did something he’d never tried before – he phased through the floor and dropped onto the ground of the room underneath. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, but One managed to get to his feet before Corso followed. One got to the door as Corso got to his feet and the chase began again. 

One had no thought other than getting away until he realized what hallway he was in. 

Though the odds of his plan working were slim he had to give it his best try. One ran. It wasn’t long before he heard a thud behind him and then the pounding of Corso’s boots as he chased after One. 

One turned down another hallway and saw his goal in front of him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get Corso – 

Corso crashed into One a second time, sending them both through the door One had been running towards. With a grunt One hit the floor and rolled out from under Corso’s arms and legs. He made it to his knees at the same time as Corso. They stared at one another. One with a look of sheer fear and Corso looked like he just cornered his prey. 

“There’s no where you can go.” Corso said as they pushed up onto their feet. “No where you can go that I can’t reach you.” 

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” One started before he could talk himself out of it. “We can work together.” Maybe Devon had caused One’s own optimism to resurface. One was going to ignore his subconscious version of Three’s advice and negotiate with the crazy person. The psychopath. Jace fucking Corso. 

“Work together?” Corso scoffed. “Why would I ever consider working with someone so weak? You’re nothing. A waste of perfectly good air – nothing!” 

Something inside One snapped. “I am not nothing! I am not weak! I may be dead, but so are you.” He rushed forward and crashed into Corso. The man laughed manically and grabbed ahold of One. They tumbled and tossed together in a ball of knees, elbows and fists. 

One gave as good as he got, but he still was no match for Corso. When Corso pinned him One growled up at the man. 

“Still want to work together?” Corso asked in a low, husky voice. “Do you still think you are not weak? Do you think we are the same?” 

“I never said we were the same!” One shouted back and groaned when Corso drove his knee in between his legs. 

A gun fired and Corso fell forward. 

One gasped and pushed Corso’s now slack body off of him. He scrambled away and stood, his eyes moved from Corso’s body to Devon standing across the room. The gun was still smoking from being fired and Devon looked as shocked as One. 

“You walked through walls.” One stated the obvious. 

“I had to.” Devon agreed. 

Corso groaned and threatened as he struggled to get up. “I’m going to kill you both.” 

One rushed forward and pushed Devon out of the room and back out into the hallway. “Cross your fingers.” He told Devon as he pressed in the code to the space lock, opening the doors and exposing the room they had just left to space. One looked through the window and watched as Jace Corso was shot out into space. Corso didn’t have time to look afraid as he was catapulted into the black. The last expression the man would ever aim at One was one of murder. A shudder of relief washed through One’s body. It lasted until One looked at Devon. 

The man was pale, his hand firmly grasped around the bloody wound in his side. 

“Devon.” One whispered and hesitated, unsure if he could touch Devon without hurting him. 

“One.” Devon tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. 

“Let’s get you back to the infirmary.” One said and moved forward to take Devon’s weight. The man grunted in gratitude.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added 4-6 today...so make sure you go back and read everything in order! ^^

“What do I do?” One asked once they had gotten back to the infirmary and Devon was laid out on the exam table. 

“Don’t freak out.” Devon suggested, he chuckled darkly at One’s pale look. “It’s not that bad.” He took a deep breath and his eyes rolled in pain. “Okay, well, it’s not good, but at least the knife didn’t hit my lung this time.” 

“This time.” One echoed followed closely by a sharp gasp of realization. “Oh god, this is how you died!” 

“Yeah.” Devon breathed. “Not so bad, this time. Got you.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” One wasn’t sure where to touch Devon, so he settled on resting his hand on Devon’s sweat drenched hair. “Tell me what to do.” 

“Corso’s gone.” Devon smiled. “We’ve got all the time in the universe now. Don’t worry, it’ll heal, like you did.” 

“What if it doesn’t?” One worried. 

“I shot Corso through the heart and he survived.” Devon pointed out. “I think that’s a good sign, but I’ll talk you through it. You need, uh, to get something to pack the wound with. Stop the bleeding.” 

“Okay.” One nodded sharply and started to search the room for the things he needed. He wished he hadn’t ignored Devon when the doctor had patched up his own wounds. One hadn’t considered that their positions would ever be reversed. Selfish. One knew he was selfish. 

“Good.” Devon praised him when he returned with clean bandages and packs of gauze. “First, first you should clean out the wound.” 

“Clean it out?” One’s eyes widened. He was no doctor, but he knew the basics of what Devon meant. “That’ll hurt you.” 

“It has to be done. I don’t think Corso ever cleaned that knife.” Devon shivered. “It’s probably covered in your germs.” He joked darkly with a low chuckle. 

“Dev.” One breathed in a sharp breath. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you.” 

“It doesn’t make you him.” Devon saw through One’s fear. “You’re hurting me to save me. There’s a difference. I promise you, you aren’t him.” 

One still felt pained at the idea of hurting Devon, but reluctantly nodded and searched the cabinet for alcohol or another cleansing liquid. Once it was located One hesitated a second time before he turned back to Devon. The man was pale and covered in sweat. He looked exhausted and the blood loss was taking it’s toll. 

“Dev.” One returned to the man’s side. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out with a sigh. “If I hadn’t – ”

Devon’s hand rushed against One’s cheek gently. “You didn’t know this would happen.” 

“If I had just given up.” One whispered. 

“Then Corso would have killed us both.” Devon closed his eyes. “You saved us. I’ll survive this and we’ll figure this out. Together. Just like I promised.” 

“Right.” One took in a deep breath and settled himself into his task at hand. He had to insure that Devon would survive. Devon looked like he had fallen asleep, or unconscious as One poured the alcohol onto a clean cloth. “I’m going to start now.” He warned the unconscious man. There was no response, but One wanted to get it over with. He pressed the soaked cloth against the wound. Devon gasped awake, but bit his lip in order to keep from crying out. 

“Keep it there.” Devon said through clenched teeth when One started to move the cloth away. “It needs to do it’s job.” 

One nodded, but he hated seeing Devon’s pained expression. “Should I add more?” 

“Yeah, do it.” Devon swallowed thickly. “Pour it directly onto the cloth over the wound.” 

Devon did scream. He couldn’t hold it in, but he did manage to place his hand over One’s when One went to pull the cloth away from the wound. “You’re doing great.” He promised. “Just give it a minute.” 

“Okay.” One closed his eyes briefly before refocusing on the problem at hand. 

“Distract me.” Devon requested desperately. 

“Distract you?” One asked incredulously. He needed a bit of a distraction himself. “Did, uh, did I tell you about the time Three blackmailed me?” 

“What?” Devon’s eyes widened a little. “Actually, I can totally see him doing that.” 

“Yes.” One smiled humorlessly. “He found out I wasn’t the real Jace Corso. He said the others would kill me when they found out. I had to agree with everything he said or he’d tell them.” 

“His idea’s are pretty out there.” Devon laughed lightly. “I’m guessing that didn’t last long?” 

“Not really, no.” One smirked. “I wasn’t exactly a compliant, um, helper. I think everyone knew that something was off the first time I said Three had made a good point, because it was rather obvious he hadn’t.” 

“You’d be surprised to hear he changed a bit.” Devon offered. “I think you changed him.” 

“I doubt that.” One looked away, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to talk about Three. One’s heart still hurt whenever he pictured Three’s face. He wasn’t quite sure why. 

“No, really.” Devon shifted and paled again. “I met him in the prison’s infirmary. He had gotten injured, I can’t remember exactly what happened, but he realized that it was a little nicer in the infirmary. The food was better and the nurse that was assisting me that day was obviously his type.” 

“Anything that moved was his type.” One interrupted with a scoff. “Sorry, go ahead.” 

Devon smirked, but continued. “I could see him plotting, thankfully he listened to my rather blunt advice about what happened to those who faked injuries at the prison. His attitude on the Raza, after you died was different. More subdued. He actually considered possible outcomes when the others were involved.” 

“Really?” One blinked. 

“He changed.” Devon nodded. “Okay, I think it’s been long enough, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Gently wipe the wound with the cloth and then help me see how deep it is. I’m guessing it’s going to need some stitches, but if you hold the mirror I should be able to do that myself.” 

“Are you insane?” One blinked at Devon who smirked. “I’m not letting you stitch yourself up!” 

Devon frowned, “I was joking. Obviously.” Devon smiled. “I will need to talk you through it though, so if you can find a mirror that would be great.” 

One stared for a moment, but nodded and slowly started to search the room for something reflective. He returned with a small round mirror and handed it to Devon. Although his hands shook, Devon held the mirror on the other side of the wound and started to walk One through pulling the broken pieces of flesh together with the suture kit.

“This is awful.” One used the back of his wrist to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Blood dripped from his gloved fingers and Devon choked out a sound somewhere in between a laugh and a sob. 

“Yeah, surgery isn’t for everyone.” The young doctor agreed. “Blood never bothered me.” 

“I’m more worried about hurting you.” One said as he tied the suture threat off at the edge of Devon’s wound. “Do you think the knife nicked anything important?”

“No.” Devon licked at his dry lips and sighed as One set the needle and left over threat aside. “No, I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t think so? Think?” One raised his voice. 

“I can’t really be sure. The mirror only helped so much, but judging by the amount of blood, the color of red and the lack of any other liquids, I think I’m good. I can breathe, which is very important.” 

“Yes.” One exhaled. “I mean, I guess, if you are sure. That you are mostly sure.” 

Devon smiled tightly and leaned back on the table half asleep. “I knew you could do it.” 

“I didn’t exactly have much of a choice.” One pointed out with an equally tight smile. “He’s really gone?” 

“I think so.” Devon nodded. “This isn’t hell, you know? If it were, I don’t think that I’d be stuck here with you.” 

“Why do you say that?” One frowned. 

“You’re here.” Devon’s smile turned sleepy. “It’s not hell. I mean, if you weren’t here, it would be hell, but you’re here.” His eyes blinked slow before One watched them close. It was clear the adrenaline crash and the loss of blood had affected Devon’s brain to tongue sensors. Still, something warmed inside of One at the injured man’s words. Devon was happy they were together. Hell, One was happy they were together too. More than happy. 

Now that Corso was gone One felt hope fill his soul after a long absence. Maybe things would turn around. Maybe they could figure out a way off the Raza, or at least a way to control the ship. 

Maybe things were changing for the better. 

Maybe. 

Maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, the end. I thought about making this a series...it was supposed to be a touch longer, but I thought this was a fitting ending. 
> 
> In all honesty I haven't been writing much of anything recently, Dark Matter related or not. I'm pretty much just posting the stories I have already finished. 
> 
> Hopefully inspiration will strike...but if not. It's been fun guys!

**Author's Note:**

> I get that not a lot of people are going to read this story...but I had to write it anyway. I hope those who do enjoy it! 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by.


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